


Gone is Gone (the Hobbit Version)

by Dreamflower



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms
Genre: B2MeM 2012, F/M, Gender Issues, Story within a Story, folk tale crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 13:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6053644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamflower/pseuds/Dreamflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose Gamgee tells the children the tale of Noddy Button, who gets more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gone is Gone (the Hobbit Version)

**Author's Note:**

> B2MeM Challenge: N-31, Art Supplies, "Beads"; N-31, Crossover, "Folk or fairy tale", N-31, Food, "Pasta (including noodles)"  
> Format: Short Story,Frame Story  
> Title: Gone is Gone (the Hobbit Version)  
> Genre: Folk tale  
> Rating: G  
> Warnings: N /A  
> Characters: Rose Gamgee, the younger Gamgee children  
> Pairings: OMC/OFC  
> Author's Notes: This Middle-earth adaptation is based on "Gone is Gone", a translation of a Bohemian folk tale by Wanda Hazel Gág. It is in the third volume of the 1954 edition of Childcraft. Those orange-backed books were a main source of my early childhood reading, and I still own them, worn as they are. This particular tale was definitely a favorite of mine and always makes me giggle hysterically.

**Gone is Gone (the Hobbit Version**

  


It was a very quiet evening at Bag End. Sam-dad was away at the Great Smials, reporting on some Mayoral duties to Thain Peregrin, and he had taken Elanor and Frodo along with him. The babies, Bilbo and Ruby, were already sound asleep in the nursery. Rose-lass had recently learned to make beads out of flower petals, and was patiently showing her younger sibs how to string them. Mother Rose sat in her armchair by the hearth, knitting and enjoying the unusual peacefulness, and knowing it would not last long. She was surprised though, at what broke it.

"Mam, could you tell us a story?" asked Rose-lass. "I know Sam-dad or Elanor usually tell the stories, but you know some, too, don't you?"

Rose was startled at the request. It was true enough, evenings at Bag End most often found the family listening to Sam telling stories of his Adventure in the wide world, or Elanor entertaining them with fanciful tales of the Elves. It was rare for Rose to even have the opportunity to tell stories.

She smiled. "Why, let me think...ah, I know!"

"Now your Grandmother Lily, she says this story is about a farmer named Button who lived over Michel Delving way. Some as tells it says 't was a Puddifoot from Needlehole, and your Uncle Merry swears he was a Sandybanks from Stock. But I'm going to say it was Noddy Button, who lived on a little farm on the White Downs, because I never knew my ma to be less than truthful."

*******

"Noddy Button had a pretty and clever wife named Blossom, a daughter named Posy who was not yet even a faunt, and they had a little dog named Brownie.

The had a shaggy cow, two goats, a pig, and a dozen chickens. They lived in a small smial dug into the side of a little hill in the center of the farm.

Noddy had to plow in the spring, and sow, and then hoe the ground. He had to cut the hay and rake it and bind it into haystacks. He was a hard-working hobbit, as most hobbit farmers are.

Blossom had the hole to clean, six meals a day to cook, the butter to churn, the chickens to feed, the garden to tend and little Posy to take care of. She worked just as hard as most farm wives do.

Yes, they both worked hard, but Noddy always thought he worked hardest. Every evening when he came in, he'd fall down in his chair and wipe his brow with a large yellow handkerchief and he'd say: "Oh, it was so hot today I thought I'd melt! And the plow was so heavy. Blossom, you just don't know how hard I work, little do you know! Your work is like nothing at all."

Now most days Blossom just listened to him talk, but one evening, she got tired of hearing about it, and she said, "It's not as easy as you might think, Noddy Button!"

"Pshaw!" said Noddy. "All you have to do is potter around the house a bit. There's nothing hard about it."

Blossom had her back turned to him as she scrubbed a pot, and he didn't see her purse her lips. "Well, if you think so, then maybe we should take turns. Tomorrow I'll go out in the fields and do the sowing, and you can stay here at the smial and potter around. If you think you can, of course."

Noddy smiled at the idea. He'd lie in the grass and keep an eye on Posy, sit in the shade and churn, cook some soup, play with the dog. He could do that easily.

Well, Blossom got up early, ate some toast and porridge and tea for first breakfast, and packed up her provisions for second breakfast, elevenses, and luncheon, and headed out for the fields with a big smile on her face.

Noddy decided to fry himself a nice string of sausages for his second breakfast, and so he put the skillet on the fire, and the sausages were just sizzling away when Noddy had an idea: a mug of ale would go well with those sausages. So he set the pan down on the hearth and went down to the cold cellar to draw a mug of ale. He pulled out the bung, and watched the ale foam into his mug. He grinned in anticipation.

But just then he heard a clatter and and clang above! The sausages! The dog! He dashed back to the kitchen, and no sooner had he done so than he saw Brownie race by, the sausages in his mouth. "Hoy!" shouted Noddy. "Come back, dog!" But Brownie was off like an arrow, and Noddy stood no chance of catching him.

He sighed. "Well, what's gone is gone." He started to reach for his handkerchief and noticed something in his hand: the bung! He had run off with the bung, and now the ale was pouring out. He turned around and ran back as quickly as he could, but too late-- the barrel was empty and there was a puddle of ale on the cellar floor.

Noddy looked sadly at the ale, and then sighed. "Ah, well, gone is gone..."

Since second breakfast did not look likely, he decided to get on with his next chore, which was to churn the butter. He took the churn and his little daughter out to the shade of a large chestnut tree. The breeze was pleasant, and the tree was filled with birdsong, which made a pleasant accompaniment to Posy's wordless singing.

""Now this is the way to work," said Nobby, as he churned away. But pretty soon, he began to hear a very pathetic sound; it took him a moment to realise it was their cow! She'd had no water all morning, but Noddy could tell she was hungry too. He decided to take her to the meadow. But wait-- he couldn't leave Posy alone that long!

Suddenly he had a wonderful idea! He'd take the cow up to the roof of the smial! It was just a hilltop, wasn't it? And covered with nice fresh grass, as well! He could just take her up there. So he took the cow, and led her up the back of the hill to the rooftop. But from the rooftop, he could see little Posy, who was trying to find out what was in the churn. Before he could even shout, she'd pulled it over on herself. Now she lay on the ground, laughing and covered in butter and whey!

"Oh dear!" he said. "That's the end of today's butter. Oh well, what's gone is gone." He climbed down and picked up Posy and took her to dry in the sun. Realizing how late it had become, he knew he needed to start the soup. He rushed out to the garden and began pick all sorts of vegetables: beans and peas, carrots and parsnips, onions and potatoes, celery and parsley. In fact, his arms were so full that he couldn't latch the gate behind him. He scurried into the kitchen, and sitting down on a bench, began to cut and pare the vegetables. He worked quickly, peelings and parings flying about the room like leaves in a storm.

But now there was a loud noise above him. "Bother!" he exclaimed. " It must be that pesky cow!" He put down the knife and went out to the shed, where he grabbed a coil of rope. Then he went up on the roof and tied one end about the cow. But there was no handy tree to tied the other end to. So he dropped the other end of the rope down the chimney. Then he went back into the kitchen, took that end and tied it about his waist. He grinned to himself at his cleverness. Now she could not easily get loose without his knowing it. 

  
He set a pot of water on the hob. "Now for some of those noodles Blossom dried the other day…" But he never got that far.

The cow slipped off the roof with a loud bump, and Noddy? Well, poor Noddy was pulled right up to be stuck in the chimney!"

*******

  
  
Rose stopped the story. The children, who had been listening intently, were now shrieking with laughter!

"Noddy's silly!" said Goldilocks emphatically.  
  
"Indeed he was, my chicklet," said Rose. She waited until the laughter from her brood had died down to occasional giggles and snickers, before taking up the thread of the story once more.

*******

Well you can imagine Blossom walking home from the fields. She was tired, and had to admit that ploughing and sowing were very hard work—but they were much more peaceful a task than any she had to do at home! But what was the first thing she saw? The cow, hanging down half-throttled, with her eyes bulging out. Quickly, she ran and cut the poor creature down. It wobbled about looking very confused, but at least it was alive, thank goodness!

She looked around and the next thing she saw was the garden gate wide open, and there were the the goats, the pig and all the chickens, full as could be—but the garden was cleaned out.

Blossom walked on, and what did she see next? The churn upside down and little Posy, sticky with dried whey, asleep in the grass. Next to her, lying on his back and moaning a little, was Brownie, his belly clearly full of something he should not have been eating! Blossom picked up Posy, who barely stirred, but murmured "Mama". On into the kitchen she went, only to see the floor covered with vegetable peels and parings, and littered with dirty dishes and pans. Where on earth was Noddy?

Finally she looked over at the hearth! There in the fireplace was the soup kettle and sticking out were two arms and two wet furry feet, and she heard a weak gurgle.

"Stars and garters!" she exclaimed, as she rushed over to pull Noddy out of the soup pot. For of course, when she had cut the cow loose, poor Noddy had fallen right down, splash! into the pot! Thank goodness the fire had not been lit.

"Noddy Button!" she said, looking at her dripping husband, "Is _this_ the way you keep a hole?"

"Oh, Blossom! Your work is a lot harder than I thought it was!"

" 'Tis a little hard to begin with, I suppose, but you'll get used to it. I'm sure you'll do better at it tomorrow…"

"No! No!" cried Noddy. "You are much better at it than I am! I'll go back to my plowing and sowing and reaping after this, and never again will I say my work is harder."

"Never?" asked Blossom.

Noddy shook his head as hard as he could. "Never!"

Blossom folded her arms and stared at him for a moment. "If that's how it is, we can live in peace then. But not before you clean up the mess you've made."

*******

The children were all howling with laughter. Merry and Pippin were rolling around on the floor, beating it with their fists and kicking their feet, and Rose-lass was wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

Hamfast sat up, still giggling and chortling. Finally, he managed to speak. "Mam, you should tell us stories more often! You are funnier than Sam-dad!"

Rose smiled, gratified. Maybe she should, once in a while. 

   
---  
  
 


End file.
